The Names we Own
by White.Demon.Feathers
Summary: The Elven Inquisitor is having trouble with her Black Wall returning after saving his life from the hangman's noose. Is it the man that is avoiding her, or are her companions causing more chaos than helping heal her wounded heart? (T to be safe)


**So here is a little something that I just had to get down on my compy and then I felt like...this can be shared. It's a little something that itched my brain and I wondered about it again and again throughout the romancing and the gaming. So, like I have a knack for doing, I settled the itch myself and am pleased with what has come about. I hope you enjoy it!**

Two weeks – two damning weeks and the man was still…sulking in the blacksmith's quarter. Not a word from his lying mouth – not one, damn word. Not even an "Inquisitor." No. Just whittling and training and exercises and a whole lot of nothing.

Cassandra spoke to him. Iron Bull and Varric, too. Cullen and Lelianna said their piece – letting him know in no uncertain terms were he stood. Dorian, Sera, Cole and Solas even managed a moment of his time. Who knows what they said…

Yet she had not gone to see him, and he had not given her anything for his freedom. Not one blasted word about it, not a thanks, not a token… _nothing!_

She had not saved him for any reward, but a _word_ would have sufficed!

It was beginning to feel more and more like a fool's errand, dragging him back to serve the cause. Selfish and stupid. Though Lelianna and Cassandra and Josephine all assured her she was not losing any face with the soldiers nor the pilgrims.

As if her reputation mattered!

Her status and influence had been easy to manipulate to bring him to Skyhold. And though he had been concern for her _tarnished reputation_ , it was of no consequence. Cullen had handled the transfer with superb delicacy and the _slight_ of lying to the Inquisitor and the Inquisition as well as impersonating a Grey Warden – well…the Orlesian sheriff had given in to her passing judgement.

And if she was called the Herald of Andraste, _an elf_ , then why couldn't she use that title for something for herself?

Even after…these two weeks, it still was the right call, her bruised pride aside. He still performed admirably, with more zeal than any other solider and quicker on his feet than she had ever seen before. Perhaps he felt like he had to prove himself, once more? And perhaps she believed it as well.

Demoting him had been the best option at the time – the punishment suited for someone of a less offense, but in no way could she merely send him on his merry way to make right his mistakes without _some_ form of discipline. How else would _anyone_ respect her if she had? Title be damned, if she let him go with no consequence to his actions. The Maker was of a forgiving sort, as Cullen's religious studies taught her, and as His beloved's Herald she was as well. That did not mean she could not quite forget how he hurt her.

Iron Bull had approved her decision and even went about taking him into his crew, albeit with serious caution – more than she had ever seen the Qunari take in all the time she knew him. But the sentiment had touched her, and if he was suspicious of his new recruit, the fine ale she offered him softened all edges thereof.

Hellyn Lavellen was in no desire to make the first move – that's what pulling his sorry ass out of that jail cell was. _She_ saved him from death. It mattered little that he had _resigned_ himself to death; she wanted no part in knowing he would die and there still being something she could do about it.

Instead, he took her judgement without grace, too concerned with her reputation and damning himself for not being able to be good enough for her.

Well, after two weeks of not one word, she was beginning to agree. Irony and poor timing be damned!

"Do not ask me to check on him," Lelianna nearly begged, if the spymaster had the disposition to feel anything like exasperation – her overly abundance amount of patience was wearing thin, however.

"I was not!"

"Do not lie to me, Inquisitor; I know all your secrets."

"If he would only damn his pride and say something." Hellyn stared at her fingerless gloves and sighed dejectedly. "If only he would just speak to me."

"If I may," and that she was asking meant she was about to say something unpleasant. "You have not made it easy to find you."

"I have stayed to my quarters, the war room, and the chantry. I have made my schedule as predictable as possible. I eat in the mess hall, with everyone else, and close to the door to be easily seen. I have kept the personal bodyguard Cullen insists at bay. What more can I do!?"

"Perhaps lay naked in his bed? That would get _my_ attention." Dorian smirked and it flowed into a genuine smile as his Inquisitor tried to stem a surprised laugh.

"He does not _deserve_ easy. I made it easy before. When he was playing hard to get and I nearly threw myself at him at every occasion!" She flung her hands in the air and paced away from the mage and rouge.

They shared a knowing smile behind her back before Dorian tried again. "You could have him thrown in the dungeon, that's where all your _honest_ talks have been."

"Dorian," Lelianna hissed, "Too soon."

"He is no longer a prisoner." Hellyn answered without hearing Lelianna's reprimand. "I don't want him thinking I do not forgive him."

"Do you?"

"Do I forgive him?" Unnaturally bright green eyes pierced the mage with a sharp and cutting look. He withered gracefully and tactfully dropped the smirk and joking manner. Finally she sighed, "mostly.

"The Grey Warden lie, the name, the fact that he tried to murder a man, and let his men take the fall – I've forgiven all that."

"What else?"

She looked to her spymaster for a moment, pure panic coloring her grimace. "Leaving me…alone…the same night." She bared her teeth as her two companions shared another significant look. "He wanted me to think he left – wanted me to _hate_ him! As if my feelings could be so easily manipulated! As if what I feel for him means _nothing_!"

"Oh," Dorian stepped forward and took his Inquisitor's shoulders as she shook with rage and panic and something so raw and terrible it brought tears to her eyes. They did not fall. "You poor creature."

"You all must think me so weak."

"Not at all, dear Inquisitor," the man smiled and it warmed Hellyn even as she felt like falling through the Deep Roads, never to be seen again. "You are still a woman after all, with a beating heart like the rest of us."

"Give him time. Let him figure out you still want him. He may not think it is possible."

With a childlike sniff she rubbed at her face before she pulled both mage and spymaster into a brief hug – it was rare for her to bestow such physical affections.

"Alright, alright," she pulled back and tried to fix her swept-back blonde hair before she shook her feelings off and shoved them back down the box she kept a lid on. As she left the spymaster's quarters she smiled over her shoulder, "Thank you." Then she was gone to the chantry as she did ever day at noon's chime.

The spymaster eyed the mage, borderline disdainfully. "Don't you have a _game_ a noon's chime?"

He chuckled secretly, "And just before supper don't you have some dual-blade _practice_ to attend to?"

Without another word, as if more was said between them than their schedules, Dorian left and Lelianna went to check on her birds.

"It isn't worth your time, Inquisitor." She frowned at Cassandra's clipped tone.

"Not worth my time?"

"You should be thinking about more important matters."

"Yes, yes, the giant hole in the sky!" the words spilled forth like poison. "We…I…I know this isn't…"

The woman sighed and put her book down to give the woman her full attention. "He is embarrassed, no doubt, and probably feels unworthy of your attention. How can he face you when the whole Inquisition is watching his every move?"

"What?" Hellyn turned sharply and stared eye-wide at her friend.

But Cassandra shook her head. "You did not think he could simply slip right back where he was-"

"Of course not! I deranked him! He's a common soldier now."

"He is nothing _common_." With no malice the words turned into a sneer, "The soldiers are in a mild uproar."

"They what? Commander Cullen said nothing…"

"And he won't. It is his responsibility to handle the soldiers. And even if you managed to shove him under Iron Bull's band, the men are not happy he tricked _everyone_ and lied to their Inquisitor."

An ugly blush stained Hellyn's cheeks.

"Aw, come now, that is of no fault of the Inquisitor's." Varric's smooth voice filled the quiet courtyard as he and Josephine joined the two women.

"He's right," the ambassador agreed, "You could not have foreseen to his every comfort."

At her words Hellyn's eyes narrowed, "I care very little for his _comfort_. However, I do not want a riot on my hands."

"And you won't," Varric chuckled nonchalantly, as was his nature. "The man reaps what he sow. The soldiers will do their part in preventing him from lying again."

"That is not what I want, either."

Josephine and Cassandra shared a looked, a look that reminded her of Dorian and Lelianna from the other day. The Antivan asked, "Then what do you want, Lady Inquisitor?"

"I just want him to talk to me. I just…want him…" she sighed, defeated in the face of her own feelings. It was…too much…this terrible want…just to see his face, hear his voice.

Was he feeling just as desperate, just as lost?

What she _needed_ was to hear him explain it to her, one more time. Out in the open, without the iron bars between them, and for her to say her piece. She deserved to say her piece. How he left her – that was _not_ alright.

And she wanted to move past her feelings right now, too. That can only be done if she hears his voice and sees his face and says her piece.

Varric spins a tale, of Hawke and her elven lover, of their trials and tribulations. It is enough to distract her; Hellyn listens as the story unravels as Varric clearly starts embellishing the tale as is his nature. And as he steers her attention elsewhere, for the moment, Josephine and Cassandra smile affectionately at their leader.

"I noticed a few of the visiting nobility are somewhat edgy by your new representative."

"Ah," Josephine smiles and waves a hand nonchalantly, "He is new and slightly unorthodox. But he is learning well the art of speech and etiquette." Her bright eyes catch dark blue, "The Bronko pins have never looked cleaner, Lady Cassandra. Whoever you've assigned to such a daunting task certainly has overachieved our expectations.

"And the Mabari! They must be getting far more exercise, to be so tired at the end of the day and so clean, too! Who has time to give the dogs a bath, I wonder."

The woman opened her booked and smirked, "Hardly, it takes more than hard labor to impress me."

By week's end Hellyn is certain something is going on, a joke of some kind that everyone is involved in, except she. The humor of such a joke lost on her and the significant looks her companions are sharing behind her back proving that perhaps she doesn't wish to know it. Even Cullen caught eyes with Varric and Solas more than a few times, and _Sera_ – ah! – that fiend giggled like a demon whenever… _he_ was brought up in conversation.

Yes.

It was about… _him_. It was always about him. Her distressed seemed to have developed into some kind of _amusement_ to the others. Not to all of them: Cole, Cullen, Varric, and Dorian appeared quite serious whenever the topic switched to _that_ individual. Lelianna, Cassandra, Josephine, Sera, and Iron Bull, however, were taking in some form of humor to her plight. Solas was a part of it too, and yet came across as a rather unwilling _victim_ to the inside joke.

The shared secret looks had to stop!

So by week's end, she finally found her opportunity to figure out exactly what was going on.

"Uh…Hi Boss."

"Afternoon, Iron Bull."

"Is…uh…is there something you need…from me?"

"There is, in fact, something I could use your help on, yes."

"Oh…good." He shifted his gaze to seek help, which there was apparently _lacking_ as Hellyn had made damn sure this grove, just outside the stronghold, was without… _aid_ of any kind to her captive.

"Iron Bull, I would like to know what is going on in my Keep."

"Could you…be a little more specific, Boss?"

"Specifically I would like to know why everyone seems to be sharing secret smiles at my expense."

"Oh!" he sounded relieved, "No one is laughing at you, Boss. No need to-"

"Then why is it that whenever I mention Blackwall's name no one seems to be talking."

If Qunari could pale, have the blood drain their face, then Iron Bull would have done so. Instead he just froze, one giant block of muscle…simply not moving. Hardly breathing. If _that_ did not prove her point then nothing else would.

"Bull?" she drew the name out, in false curiosity. As if she had not caught whiff of his tell – for someone so damn sure of his _manipulation_ skills, she sure broke him too fast.

"Look, Boss. It was all for your own good. We all thought to make sure this… _man_ " – and by the sound of it, Iron Bull thought he did not deserve to be called such – "is serious about our cause."

"I gave him the option to continue to fight and he chose to stay. What more proof do you need of his loyalty?"

"Boss, you've got it all wrong. None of us are questioning your authority." He had the gall to smile. "We just don't trust that lying bastard, is all."

"Oh," Hellyn made sure to fold her arms real slow and to hide her shaking fists as she did so. "Is that _all_? You just took it upon yourselves to…what exactly?"

He laughed, obvious to his Inquisitor's growing rage he actually laughed. Her tolerance thinned considerably as he barked with mad glee and doubled over in his _secret_ _joke_.

"We've been testing him!" and didn't he just sound so damned proud!

Hellyn forcibly relaxed her jaw. " _Testing_ … 'We'? You mean _all_ of you?"

"Oh yeah!" he let out a crow of laughter, "We each got a test for him to past before we let him talk to you."

Bright green eyes narrowed and for the first time Iron Bull realized that she was _not_ sharing in his amusement. "Tell me, Bull. What kind of tests?"

"Oh…well…uh…Solas made him work in the library – moving books around for _hours_. Hell, maybe made him _read_ some of them! And Casandra made him clean the animal pins…take the Mabari for walks…give them baths, too. And…uh…Red…she fights him. Uses him as her training dummy, mostly. He has his shield and she has her daggers and they fight 'til she says stop." Here he nervously laughs…checking to see if it's safe to do so.

It isn't.

"And you?"

"Oh…Me? Ha! What did I do? Well, _you_ assigned him to me…so I got to put him through some drills with my men. Made him teach them, train them, and then…" he stopped abruptly, as if he suddenly realized his next words could very well send him into the Void.

One eyebrow rose at his hesitancy. Iron Bull was no coward at the sight of Death, however. "I made him run the Keep, in his smalls, 'til he puked his guts out – twice!" Then he stood straighter, taller, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Boss, we did it for you."

No…that did not sound like it was for her. _That_ all sounded petty. Cleaning the library? Washing dogs? _Hurting him_?

"You best leave me, Bull. And I suppose you ought to warn the others. I will wish to speak to each and every one of my companions."

Instead of listening to her, he snapped. "Whether you believe me or not, we did do it for you."

"I wish you hadn't!"

He glared down at her, "He _lied_ to you, to all of us!"

"And you should be the _last_ person to throw stones, Bull. Wasn't your name 'lair'?"

It was a low blow and he knew it. "I lied for the Qun, because it was my _job_. He was selfish!"

"Lady…please do not be upset with him…"

Hellyn froze, her heart in her throat… _That voice_! She thought…if she heard it again she would come to some kind of peace with her warring emotions…but at that voice she felt a multitude of hurt and anger rise to the surface instead. And in retaliation, she wanted to lash out and hurt him.

At the last second she remembered who she was, who she was with and to hold her tongue.

"Bull…"

"Right, Boss. I'm gone." Before he left he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Just so you know…he passed all our tests." Then he patted the elf's shoulder and walked away.

For a moment both appeared afraid to speak, to move, but Hellyn managed to turn just enough to catch him standing in her peripheral. She wasn't sure if she could look at him; take the sight of him along with the sound of his voice. "I hear you've had…quite the reunion back."

"It has…been an interesting few weeks."

"Cleaning Bronko pins and _training_ with Lelianna…I can't imagine you would find the time to speak with me."

He cleared his throat, nervously, "It was Cole's test…I wanted to speak with you, immediately, but he told me I had to wait until the right time."

"The _right_ time, hm? And that is now?"

"Yes. I looked for you at the war room – you're usually haunting that floor about now."

She scoffed, "I do not _haunt_."

There was a hesitant chuckle, whereas before it would have been bold and unapologetic…now it seemed like he wasn't sure if he was _allowed_ to laugh. "If you say so, my Lady."

She still had not looked at him, training her eyes to his leather boots and trailing to the worn trousers of the common soldiers, but no farther. It still could not be determined if she would break down and cry in front of him.

"So Cole was forcing you to wait – why?"

"He said you…you were not ready to see me."

Perhaps…perhaps she still wasn't ready, but she knew they _had_ to speak and now was good a time as any. "I hear Solas made you straighten the library."

"Yes, and reorganize Dorian's messes. He would make me move stacks of books from one shelf to another and the next day I would put the stacks I moved before to their original shelf." He sighed, "Humility, I think, was his aim."

"And he gave you homework?"

"Ah, yes, he asked for me to read certain books before I could see you."

"What books?" she walked a little away from him, keeping her back to him as she went farther into the grove.

"Books on war…and love. I suppose he wanted me to understand how much I…hurt you."

"Meddlesome …" she growled under her breath, for him she asked about the others.

"Lelianna is a demon, I think. We would dual during the supper hour and we would not stop until I either blacked out or she commanded the fight done. She has…a fearsome deposition.

"Cassandra had me take to cleaning the animal pins."

"I heard."

"And I was helping the Mabari Master with the pups. Walk them, clean them – they are quite the handful." There was a fondness in his tone that almost made Hellyn try to catch a glimpse of it. But she was not quite sure if her emotions were under control just yet.

"Did they imprint on you?"

"Oh!" He sounded startled, "No, I do not think so. The pups don't imprint usually so young. It isn't for another few years until they are…aware enough to choose a master."

With a noncommittal sound she continued, "And Iron Bull made you run around the Keep in your smalls…until you threw up?"

"Y-yes, my Lady. Humility…in spades. His chargers are not…they took some encouraging to let me work with them."

"I…" she wanted to apologize for her companion's behavior…but it didn't seem right. He did not sound like he harbored any ill will for Iron Bull's _test_. "All of them…"

He understood her perfectly, "Cullen _asked_ that I take the first watch every morning since my return. It's usually given to the fresh recruits because nobody wants it. Josephine-"

" _Joesphine!?"_ she leaned against a tree as she looked out over the small cliff beyond the clearing. "I can't believe she would…no…yes I can."

That same hesitant chuckle, "Yes…She appointed me her…subsidiary diplomat. I would welcome nobles, and even keep them busy until Josephine, herself, could come greet them properly. She would have me run notes about the Keep and do any…errand she saw fit of me." His tone colored embarrassingly, "Some I was not so fit of, but she taught me a thing or two of etiquette and a few rules of the Game. It was exhausting." And she could just picture him slouching in disgust.

"Dorain forced me to play chess with him until I won. That cheating… _mage_ …Every day we would play at the noon day's chime, from the moment you brought me back…" his voice softened, "gave me my freedom."

She smiled to herself…the itch to cry slowly leaving, "How in the Maker's Name did you beat him?"

He coughed, and sounding not too-proud answered, "I cheated."

That surprised a laugh right out of her and she turned to smile at him. But the second her eyes meet his face the sound died right in her throat.

"Y-your…!"

"Ah," he brought up one gloved hand to rub at the bare flesh on his face. "Sera's test."

She choked on a vile curse, the words never getting the chance to leave as she stared in shock…he had lost _all_ of the hair on his face. His beard, which he had taken no small amount of pride in, was _gone_! The mustache that had once tickled her pink, _gone_! And the hair that had curled at the base of his neck, a little too long for soldier standers, was now shorter and half of it he had pulled into a short tail at the back of his head.

He looked…he looked entirely unlike himself…

Hardly recognizable…hardly like Blackwall at all!

Hellyn managed to reign in her shock and panic and bundle it up into something manageable.

"How…?" Damn – her voice still shook.

Another nervous chuckle, "She said that I since I wasn't Blackwall I couldn't _look_ like Blackwall. I suppose to her that means…Blackwall has a beard."

"Your hair?"

"She came at me after I had worked with Iron Bull's men, and dueled with Lelianna, and cleaned up the Mabari pups. Needless to say, I as exhausted. Fell asleep with the beard; woke up without it. And she was sitting on the end of my bed wearing the damned mustache!"

A smile tugged at Hellyn's lips but she wasn't sure if it would look sane so she held it back. Sera had a method to her madness – to her reasoning. She might come across as a bit too…unorthodox for some, practically unhinged for others, but she was a fierce friend when it mattered.

"Are you…alright?" It didn't seem like enough, but it couldn't be easy – battling through the nightmare of their lives with the demons and the rifts, only to come to Skyhold to fight a different kind of battle.

"I have survived them so far."

"Are they over?" She pressed her back against the tree.

He watched her with that same intense gaze from before. Even if he was barefaced, his hair drastically different, those eyes were all Black- _his_. "Yes, my Lady."

"So now we get to talk." He frowned and looked back at the Keep.

"Night will be coming quickly. I think we ought to take this conversation somewhere else."

"It is not too cold, yet." She slipped past the tree and sat in the small clearing. His reluctance to follow was clear. "This is between you and I. Already too many have meddled into our affairs."

"They thought they were protecting you."

"I wish they wouldn't."

Rubbing his hand over his clean face again he tried to hide a blush; and it's a small blessing that she can see it. Perhaps Sera…is far wiser than she gave her credit for. He took a step closer, one arm propped against the tree she left and watched the way she spread her legs out in front of her. The sun sinking off to their left…Night was on the way.

"You cannot stop them from caring for you, my Lady."

"Must you call me that?"

"It…I must." He looked terribly defeated as he moved away from the tree, one step closer to the clearing.

"Why? I am not some goddess, some Creator of old. You cannot put me on a pedestal." She looked away, " _Please_ don't distance me any farther from you."

"My…Lady…" he finished lamely. "What would you have me do?" A lost sound in the quiet.

"Talk to me. You are not the man I thought you were, but" and she watched the way he flinched at her words, "I want to know you."

Standing straighter, hands behind his back he looked off over the cliff. "Ask me whatever you wish."

"Are you actually Orlesian?"

"No. I was honest when I said I was from Markham, in the Free Marches. I didn't lie about that. I spent my childhood there, and then Orlais called to me. Markham seemed lifeless, colorless in comparison."

"And your time as a solider?"

"I served in the imperial army, and distinguished myself there. Earned respect, the loyalty of my men…" for a second he sounded so proud of what he had for himself. But then… "And then I threw it all away, betrayed my own side for _gold_." A curse if she did not know better before he exhaled and deflated as he finished, "Only gold."

"And you ran, from the authorities?"

"Yes." His dark eyes met hers as the sun began to fall in earnest. "I made my living as a hired sword. Spent most of my coin on drink. Never stayed in one place for long – had to keep moving." His stance relaxed minimally as he stepped another foot into the clearing. "I got to see much of Orlais that way. I saw what men like me had done to this great empire. It was a shock, seeing it up close, hearing the stories…it's one thing to hear the news from afar, another to actually _be_ there."

For a moment she collected her thoughts. Before she could ask what she really wanted, she changed the topic. "Did you have a family before? A wife?" and before he could pinpoint the shiver in her voice she added, "children?"

"No." there was more finality in that word that she had ever heard in him. "I've…never been…suited to that kind of life." He muttered but her elf hearing caught his self-loathing as he contemplated whether he ever _deserved_ a family. Then he spoke aloud to her once more, "I've never found someone I wanted to stay with."

He perched himself upon a log close to her but not within touching distance. "Is this what you truly wish to discuss? Because there is very little more I can say about myself and you seem determined to stay out here."

"If I go back now…I might just kill them all."

A stricken look actually splashed across his face, without the beard he gave more of himself away. "My Lady, please do not-"

"By now, you ought to know what I would do on your account."

The sun fades more, a soft breeze gathers then dies, even the crickets seem to flee. All is too quiet and Hellyn felt like something immovable has separated them.

With a sigh she begins, "We need to talk about us."

"I am not looking for forgiveness."

"You already have it." Again, more shock. "I forgive you for all of it – the warden, the death, the order, and leaving your men behind. All of it. All of it, save one…"

"What…?"

"You wanted me to think you left me?" Anger flooded her vision but for a moment before she reigned it in. "That you were dead…or _worse_! You were going to break my heart, and call it _better_?" the last was venom and she spitted it out as if it were so. A vile curse, a disgusting pledge. And with her spat she let him see the pain he wrote.

"You loved a lie, Hellyn," _Finally, her name_!

"Maker take you!" she hissed. "I still love you, Blackwall!" The silence stretched and ached. How could they ever move passed this? "I cannot call you that."

"I've said before, I don't know how to be with you as Thom Rainer."

"I am not asking you to; you're not that man anymore either."

"I…I don't understand."

She sighed, pushed her hair back from her face while he rubbed a hand against his unmarked chin. "A new name…"

Dark eyes caught hers in the darkness and they glittered. "What?" The word was startled right out of him; he probably hadn't realized he spoke.

"You can start over. Be here, with the Inquisition as someone else. Someone you think that's better." Damn the Inquisition! She had wanted to say to be with _her_ , but she wasn't quite sure if he would take to that. Even if she had forgiven him, had offered him his freedom, and allowed him a place to fight at her side that did not mean he wanted to be with her…like before.

He slipped off the log, onto his knees in the grass only a few feet away. "Hellyn…I had wanted to keep you safe. That was all I ever wanted. It's why I tried so damn hard to stay away from you. But…I couldn't…I don't think I ever will."

The pain in his heart, written all over his face, and she was frozen at the truth of it. Of course she had known – he had made it so obvious that his intent had been to keep her at a distance, put her up on a pedestal.

"To be someone else…"

"You would be who you are now, honesty as first and foremost. Only we would call you something else."

Ruefully he shook his head. "They still call me Blackwall. I think they can't think of me as anything else, even after…" he stroked the bare flesh again – a nervous tick, she realized.

"Well…you have taken it upon yourself as my personal shield…my own _black wall_ , I suppose. Perhaps we could use that as a title – the Inquisitor's Black Wall. Like a personal guard of my own, perhaps?" As she spoke she took to the idea more and more. Cullen would be quite pleased to know she would have her own guard and not worry so when she managed to give the men he stationed to her the slip. It would be less exhausting on her part, as well. Josephine and Lelianna would want to approve those she appointed, but it would _her guard_.

Yes…her own Black Wall…

"A title!" he seemed a tad more distressed than she at the prospect. "You want me as a body guard?"

"Officially. You've already made yourself such. This way we could make others acknowledge you."

"I do not wish to be acknowledged, my-" by her glare he held his tongue.

"It makes for what to call you a touch simpler. And you cannot take insult to such a title, the name 'Blackwall' would mean so much more than what you thought." Yes, she truly was taking to it more and more. "However," and their eyes locked once more as the moon peaked from its slumber and began lighting what the sun had left behind, " _You_ will still need a name."

"Please, Inquisitor…" _worse than "lady!"_ he must have noticed how his formal speech had insulted her. "Hellyn…"

Oh! Oh…what a fool! Of course it sounded like the perfect solution to her…but he could not possibly want to be her guard. Not after…everything…

"Blackwall, I…" it hurt still… "I did not think to even _ask_ you about that…about…any of it!" She felt the tears from weeks before begin to overwhelm her. The worry and the shame, the pain and the humiliation, all of it loomed over her like a great storm on the horizon…like a giant apocalyptic hole in the sky. Her shoulders shook as she turned away from the one man she loved…trusted above all others. What a fool she was.

Strong, warm hands took hold of hers and she was suddenly pulled into a body that felt so familiar she truly wanted to weep now. He held her close, pulled her nearly into his lap, and even quieted her sobs with that strong, soft voice that nearly broke her earlier. It felt so _good_ , so _right_ to be here again.

"I missed you." He stilled, only for a moment before he pressed his face against her hair.

"And I have missed you, my Lady."

For a long moment, the moon hanging high now, they sat together without words between them. It was reassuring to know that they could still be this way. The comforter and the comforted. Her strong, black wall.

But it could not last. They still had so much to discuss, to clear between them.

"You cannot toy with my emotions."

"My Lady, it was never my intent-"

"Yes it was," ice frosted each word and he held his breath against her. And yet, with him holding her now, it did not feel as significant as it had before. "You tried to make me hate you. It won't happen."

"How can you have such…faith in me?"

His awe surprised her. "I love you…" she wished she had a name that did not stab her heart every time she uttered it…something to call him that was personable and comforting.

In shock he pulled back slightly to look down at her. "You…do?"

"Of course…have my actions told another tale?"

"No…" he rubbed a hand against his naked jaw, "No…" dark eyes shined in the moonlight before he shook his head. "I will never leave you again, Hellyn. I would be honored to be in your guard…to be your Black Wall." His cheek pressed against hers and even though it was strange not to be tickled by his facial hair, his scent was familiar and soothing as it had always been.

"As for a name," he muttered into her hair, "I will answer whatever you call me."

She laughed and although it was wet and small it felt so sweet to laugh with him. "You are not some Mabari pup."

"Still, whatever you decide."

"Even if it may be elven?" He chuckled, strong and unapologetic once more and it warmed her from the inside out.

"Whatever you wish, my Lady."

The following week days blew past in a whirlwind. She managed to chew out and reprimand her comrades no matter their good intentions. Varric was the only one not done with his test – the biography of Warden Blackwall still needed to be completed and…her Captain of the Black Wall still had to help with that.

She allowed it because it would do the world good to hear of such a wonderful man, and speaking of the warden did some good for her captain as well.

Cassandra was not entirely pleased with the appointment of her own guard and with the man she chose as her captain. Cullen, alternatively, could not have been better-off. Perhaps the good commander even felt some relief that she would always be watched and no longer worry when she slipped past the men and women he stationed to her. Yet, he saw the benefits of a specialized guard for the Inquisitor as well as using the one man who loved her above all others as her captain. He would put her life above any other – as was his job and duty.

Even if Hellyn did her best to dissuade the commander of such thoughts, her captain had completely agreed with him.

Lelianna approved greatly of the idea, and even more so once Hellyn conceded to the spymaster's future endorsement of later recruitment to her guard.

After concluding more Fade business and dealing with more Inquisition quests, Hellyn finally found herself alone with her captain in her bedchamber.

He kept to the clean shaven look, perhaps because he realized that Hellyn actually liked seeing him blush from time to time. Or perhaps he did not wish for Sera to slip into his bed and shave him in his sleep once more. Either way, it was a delight to see the way his face would slowly transform whenever he caught sight of his lady walking into a room.

"Have you given it more thought, my Lady?" she smirked at the way he spoke now. The title no longer a barrier between them but a secret joke for just the two of them. It warmed her from the inside out now whenever he addressed her as such and especially when they were alone.

She stroked his smooth cheek and jaw as she smiled at him. "I have."

"And what will my Lady call me?"

"Don't laugh," she warned and he smiled as he took her into his arms. "It comes from my elven roots."

"I promise you, my Lady, I will never laugh at you." He kissed her soundly and for a moment they were lost in their embrace, in the feel and touch of one another. His nimble fingers found the latches of her vest and expertly slipped it from her shoulders as she opened her mouth to him.

It was long before they spoke again, panting as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"I believe you were going to give me a name…" he said and she giggled.

"Yes," her hands stroked down his shoulders and the muscles underneath his tunic to take his hands. Without looking she led him to her large bed and together they sat. "I have name for you." Her hand stroked his face and she smiled gently.

"Johnavan."

With a kissed he smiled, "So you say, my Lady." He leaned over and kissed her chin and down her neck, but she was pushing at him insistently.

"Do you like it? It's not silly?"

The sigh was not out of exasperation or frustration; however, he did pull away from her reluctantly. "It is a fine name. It is not…elven by any means."

"I know," she looked away as she brought her first to cover her mouth, a nervous gesture she picked up in the Inquisition. "It is influenced by one of the Creators. But I thought giving you an elven name would…make you uncomfortable." She glanced at the door, wondering if she had a chance to bolt. "So I spoke to Commander Cullen and Varric at length about it."

His strong hand wrapped around the one at her mouth and brought it to his own. "I gave you free reign, Hellyn." She smiled at the way he caressed her name and her knuckles in one breath. "However, I love the name you've chosen. Tell me why you chose it."

She blushed and busied herself with the pattern of his tunic. "It…is influenced by the elven master of crafts, _June_." With a nervous flick she gestured her face with her free hand. "He is the Creator my tattoos honor. I…I thought it would be…" she blushed harder. Why was this so embarrassing? Because her people never discussed their tattoos openly? It was common knowledge among her kind; you could tell who honored what god or goddess simply by looking at them.

But Johnavan did not know.

"You and I can be connected this way," he stroked the interlocked puzzle at the center of her forehead. His voice was strong and low and all things manly and comforting. It had been so long it seemed that she felt so safe surrounded by that voice. "You and I, elf and human."

In relief she sighed, "Yes. I thought if I made it more…human it would suit you better, but this is where it came from."

"I love it, Hellyn." Then he was kissing her again. "Say it again, my name." She did, "and again," she moaned it as he licked her neck and suckled that spot below her ear. "Again," he demanded again and again as he pleasured her and held her.

Late into the night, after she had screamed and whispered his new name, he continued to have her call him again and again. She giggled it as he nuzzled her stomach, and gasped it as he stroked her thigh. It was a secret, an oath, a pledge, and a prayer as he touched and stroked, and kissed her senseless.

As the morning streamed through the large doors to her balcony, Hellyn groaned delightfully and stretched when she felt the eyes of the man she loved on her.

"Good morning, Johnavan," she said softly as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"Again," he pleaded. "Always, call for me."

"Always, Johnavan." She agreed.

 **And there you have it folks! I hope it was an enjoyable little read for you!**


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